


In which Matt wakes up a girl, and then it ends.

by omphale23



Category: Life, Standoff
Genre: Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphale23/pseuds/omphale23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt wakes up one morning as a woman. He doesn't realize it at first, not until he crawls out of bed feeling like he's been hit by a truck and stumbles into the bathroom to take a piss and finds that a) his dick is gone, and b) he's got tits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Matt wakes up a girl, and then it ends.

**Author's Note:**

> crack!fic doesn't get a beta. Or a real ending. This is all **zeenell**'s fault.

Matt wakes up one morning as a woman. He doesn't realize it at first, not until he crawls out of bed feeling like he's been hit by a truck and stumbles into the bathroom to take a piss and finds that a) his dick is gone, and b) he's got tits.

Once he notices, though, he sits down on the floor for a minute to think about it, and maybe does a little panicked checking to make sure that, yeah, he isn't imagining this, he is definitely a woman this morning when he wasn't last night. It sucks and this is not good, he's a girl with girl parts and his hair is still short but the rest of him is definitely different.

This is somehow Charlie's fault, although Matt doesn't know why he knows that. Just that, as with all of the strangest things in Matt's life these days, Charlie must be involved somehow. Weird shit happens to Charlie, and Matt is usually standing next to him and sometimes he gets hit with the weird by accident.

He yells for Charlie, who falls out of bed with a thud and runs in. He trips on Matt, who is still sitting in the doorway poking nervously at various new and rearranged bits, and sprawls across the bathroom floor, blinking up at Matt like he's fallen down a rabbit hole. "Um. Hello. Do I know you? Because if I don't, you probably shouldn't be here. And if I do, you probably still shouldn't be here. Why are you here—although why are any of us here, ultimately, which isn't my point. Where did you come from?"

Great, now they're both on the floor, Matt is _still_ a girl, and if Charlie's babbling is any indication, at least one of them has a head injury.

Charlie sits up, legs folded under him and strangely calm for a naked guy who's just found a strange woman on his bathroom floor. Matt hates him, until he sees the twitch of Charlie's jaw, the one that means Charlie is barely managing to hold his bemused attitude in place over a serious freakout. At least Matt isn't the only one who finds this upsetting. "I don't suppose you saw someone leaving? Dark hair, nice smile, fantastic ass, probably muttering about coffee? It's early, he may not have been making any sense yet. He doesn't like mornings or surprises or surprises in the morning."

Matt glares at him. "Fuck you, Crews. It's me. I'm a goddamn _girl_ and it's your fault."

Charlie tilts his head and thinks at Matt for a few seconds. "Matt?" Matt nods, trying not to cry—which is _so_ not his usual response, what the hell—and stares down at himself. He's got _tits_ and okay, they're pretty nice as far as such things go, if they were on an actual woman he'd definitely notice and approve, but still. _Tits_. This is ridiculous.

Charlie clears his throat. "This is, well, different. Unexpected. You woke up this way?" Matt rolls his eyes. "Right, no, stupid question. Um. Okay, so, first off, you do realize that you're naked, you're sitting on the floor, and also that there's no way this is my fault."

Matt wraps his arms around his knees. The floor's kind of cold, actually. "Yes, you idiot, I know I'm naked. It's not like you haven't seen it before."

Charlie keeps looking at the ceiling, the vanity, the shower curtain. Anywhere but at Matt. "Actually, I haven't. Not quite like this, at least. That's the point, isn't it?"

"Whatever, hand me a fucking towel if you're bothered by it. It's not like _you're_ wearing pants. And yes, this is completely your fault." Charlie stands up and walks out of the room. Matt raises his voice a little. "I don't know what you did, or who you pissed off, or what exactly you did that turned my life into an episode of _The Twilight Zone_, but this has got to be your fault. Shit like this just didn't happen to me before I met you."

Charlie comes back in, carrying a button-down shirt that Matt is pretty sure is actually _his_ shirt, although he can't remember leaving it at Charlie's. He's put on a pair of yoga pants, and Matt grabs the shirt and shrugs into it, does up one of the buttons to hold it in place because he's shrunk and it keeps sliding off one shoulder. He pulls up one side, and the other slides down. Matt gives up and tilts himself forward, climbs to his feet a little awkwardly—he keeps overcompensating because bits of him are _bouncy_ now, and how do women manage to walk around all day without running into things from the distraction?

He ignores the way Charlie keeps sneaking glances at him, and the obvious arousal that the pants can't hide. Charlie's voice is a little uneven as he answers. "It didn't happen to me, either. Strange things didn't." He pauses. "Not as often, at least. I think you're jumping to conclusions."

Matt pushes past into the bedroom, where he crawls back into bed and pulls the sheets over his head. His voice is probably muffled, but he's getting a headache and he doesn't feel like moving. "Fuck you, Crews, you're not the one who woke up without your dick. I'll jump however I want, or I would if I thought I could without dislocating something."

Matt rolls over on his stomach, but the new bits of him are in the way. He growls a little and tries to shift things around. It doesn't work very well, but he's at least not going to suffocate. "And now I'm going back to sleep, because this is obviously some sort of nightmare and I'm going to wake up in an hour and fuck you senseless to celebrate not really being a woman."

Charlie still hasn't come back to bed, and Matt lifts his head out from under the covers to look for him. He's standing in the doorway, watching Matt with a combination of concern and curiosity. Matt ignores that, too. "Come back to bed. I mean it, I'm not dealing with this, it's just a dream."

Charlie starts to shake his head, but after a moment he sighs and walks over, climbs in beside Matt and lies there, arms at his sides, fingers tapping lightly at the sheets in patterns that Matt is too frustrated to follow. Matt rolls over to face him, wraps his arm over Charlie's chest and closes his eyes. He can tell by the tension in Charlie's body that he isn't comfortable, but Matt doesn't wait for him to relax. He closes his eyes and tries to will himself to sleep.

It works eventually, but when he wakes up Charlie is wrapped around him and snoring, and it's Saturday afternoon now. Matt is still a woman. Fuck.

It is going to be a very, very long week.


End file.
